


blink back to let me know

by haloud



Series: open up my eager eyes [7]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dialogue Heavy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: Alex doesn't have important conversations over the phone when he can avoid them. It feels too much like going in blind. But in some ways, the phone makes it easier--it's easier to break when no one's looking.





	blink back to let me know

**Author's Note:**

> a direct follow-up to the previous entry in this series. title comes from always by panic at the disco
> 
> this fic is not for redistribution without my express permission.

Alex calls Kyle without really thinking about what to say. He found Michael’s phone lying abandoned under the bed as he got undressed and moved it to the bedside table; then, later, he saw how many missed calls and texts Michael had and dialed Kyle’s number instinctually. He must be worried sick.

“Michael?” Kyle answers sharply, before the first ring even ends

“It’s me, actually. He’s sleeping. I think he’s been avoiding his phone for a while.”

A bit of the fire drops out of Kyle’s voice, but he still sounds warm and pleased when he responds, “I figured it was something like that. Probably afraid that if he talked to us he’d say something that made us feel bad or something. I tried not to freak out. But it’s good to hear from you.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Alex hopes Kyle can hear him despite how softly he’s speaking; he can’t talk louder, and he certainly can’t go into the other room, not now that Michael has finally gotten to sleep with his head pillowed on Alex’s chest. From the circles, deep and bruise-like, ringing Michael’s eyes, Alex can tell it’s been a while since he really slept, and his chest aches desperately, furiously, for every hour Michael was caught awake afraid they’d never come back for him. Because Alex knows him, knows what shape his monsters take, and Alex has been aching and furious from the moment he walked in the door and found Michael clinging to the kitchen sink and looking seconds from a panic attack.

“Alex? You still there?”

“Yeah.” Alex sighs heavily; Michael rises and falls with his chest. He’s completely dead to the world, given in to both physical and emotional exhaustion. Alex cups his free hand around the back of his head, as if he could hold him any closer. “Sorry, I’m zoning out a bit. Long day.”

“You’re back early. How bad?”

Clenching his jaw and staring up at the ceiling, Alex thinks through how to respond. He doesn’t have important conversations over the phone—it leaves out too much information. If Kyle was here, Alex would know with a single glance how he was feeling. How upset is he that Michael cut both of them out? Is he frustrated because he wants to be present to help take care of Michael? Is he angry or defensive because he should be able to go about his business without worrying so much? Alex is flying blind, and it grates at his already-raw nerves like nails on a chalkboard, so he takes the coward’s way out and ignores the question in favor of correcting the neutral statement.

“I didn’t come back early because of Michael. The whole reunion broke early; I texted you the details before I left Albuquerque.”

“Ugh, sorry.” The line goes quiet for a moment; Alex assumes Kyle pulled the phone away from his face to check for notifications. Then Kyle says, “I see it now. This hotel and the convention center have the worst reception I’ve ever seen, and frankly it’s a little concerning. Seriously though, how bad is he?”

Alex smooths his thumb across Michael’s brow, and he sighs again. “I guess I could say ‘not as bad as I was expecting,’ but that’s not precisely fair nor accurate.”

“Then maybe try ‘not as bad as you _feared_?’ It’s understandable, but, babe, you know you’re overprotective. I’m sure you were planning for a dozen different worst-case scenarios, and now all that nervous energy has nowhere to go—but that’s a good thing. Regular bad can still be pretty okay, all things considered.”

Kyle’s calm, rational voice helps to ease the tense knot Alex is still trying not to choke on—the knot around his throat that was all that was keeping every word of panic and desperation from oozing out of his throat. “I think this might be the first time he’s really slept all week. Seeing him like this fucking kills me, Kyle. It feels like I left him again, and the look in his eyes when I walked in the door—no matter how much we both know it wasn’t like that logically, I could tell he felt it too. And he could barely stand to be touched, I don’t think he let anyone since the night before we left; he wanted it, but I could tell it was hurting him. Fuck.” Alex’s voice cracks, and he finally falls silent.

In some ways, the phone might actually make things easier—it’s easier to break when no one’s looking. Neither Michael nor Kyle ever _asked_ him to be the strong one, but Alex knows what he has to offer. What Michael needs; what Kyle responds to. And Alex needs it too. He _needs_ to be the strong one; he needs to be _seen_ as strong and reliable and unshakeable. He’s had enough government-mandated therapy to know that it’s something he needs to be aware of, that he needs to let himself be vulnerable instead of lashing out. But god, all the anxiety of the past six days presses in from all sides, strips him bare, rubs at him like sandpaper. Every instinct shrieks at him to demand Kyle come home, that it’s not enough to just have Michael resting on top of him all sated and peaceful, that he needs to be _protected,_ shielded with Alex’s whole body.

“What about you? How have you been sleeping? And I bet you haven’t touched anyone other than a manly slap on the back in a week either.”

“That’s not fair. I may be touch-deprived, but it doesn’t affect me the way it does him. You know; you’ve seen how deeply, psychically connected the aliens are. We can’t give him that, so touch is the next best thing, and for him to go without it—”

“I know. I do. And it was a worry I had too when we both had to leave, but I’m trying to remind you that you have to take care of _yourself,_ too. And you know what? If Michael was awake, I bet he’d be on my side.”

That manages to pull a laugh out of Alex. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“Keep on telling yourself that. God, I’d be so rich if you were a betting man.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously _right.”_

“I wish I could see your smug face right now. You’re adorable when you think you’re winning.” Alex can feel a smile hovering on his lips, can feel his shoulders unclench ever so slightly as he settles back against the pillows. Still sleeping, Michael whuffs out a sigh and seems to relax as well—Alex hadn’t even noticed him tense up as Alex’s own distress mounted, but he pushes the new guilt away.

After a brief pause, Kyle says, “Listen, Alex, I’m totally down for this turning into sexy banter, but I have to say one last thing first.”

“Go ahead.” Almost absentmindedly, Alex starts rubbing gentle circles on Michael’s back, between his shoulder blades. It feels so good to touch him again, to have him this close, even if the house still feels a little empty with Kyle still gone.

“You know how I feel. It would be healthy if you—both of you—would talk to a therapist. I know Michael has his reasons, but to be honest, it’s difficult not to feel like I’m failing you both when I know how important mental health is for physical health, but you still won’t take my advice.”

Ouch. That one hurts. Alex’s heart gives an extra, anxious thump at the waver in Kyle’s voice. “It would just mean so much more lying,” he says heavily, “And that’s not any easier for me than it is for him. It’s not that we think you’re wrong; therapy just requires a level of trust and vulnerability that seems impossible considering our situation.” He pauses. Swallows. “Am I just making excuses? I can’t tell.”

“I honestly don’t know, Alex. But I had to say something. And I’ll probably bring it up again. And again.”

He’s recaptured his doctor’s calm. Alex loves that steady, controlled voice just as much as he loves breaking him out of it; but he’s never loved it more than he does right now, and it makes his chest swell with pride as well as love, knowing that his ability to soothe with just a few words is just one of a hundred things that make him so good at his job. But he also can’t chase away the remaining ache, the nagging fear that Kyle shouldn’t have to put up with all the thorns he and Michael are wound up in.

All he can offer is “I’m sorry,” and it’s woefully inadequate. Michael moans and tries to snuggle even closer to Alex, clutching the hem of Alex’s shirt in his fist. His knuckles brush the bare skin of Alex’s side beneath the fabric, and even that little, innocent touch makes him shiver a bit.

“You don’t have to apologize. Just seriously think about it, that’s all I ask. I know how hard things are—and I’m not going anywhere, so you can stop making that worried face.”

Alex raises his eyebrows. “Have you been talking to Mimi?”

“Uh, yeah? We all talk to Mimi, because Mimi is the best and Maria deserves the support. And you’re one of her favorite topics, you know. But I don’t need to be psychic to know how you sound when you’ve got your worried face on.”

“I’m just fully aware that you deserve better than—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, or I’m driving to the airport right now so I can come home and make you see sense. I’ll sit on both of you. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Kyle…”

“Alex, the fact that there’s space for me beside the two of you? I won the friggin’ lottery, okay? I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“We didn’t make space, you know. You just fit.”

Kyle pulls in a shaky breath, then breathes it out into the receiver. “God. Thank you,” he says, and it brings the little smile back to Alex’s face.

“Any time.”

“I think I’m done with the heavy stuff now. Michael still asleep?”

“Mmhm. He was pretty worn out.”

“Is that a hint of satisfaction I detect? And you didn’t even send me any pictures? I’m _deeply_ offended. One sexy selfie from _one_ of my boyfriends isn’t nearly enough to get me through a whole week and a half of schmoozing and work stuff, you know.”

“God,” Alex groans, remembering the picture Kyle is referencing—Michael’s lidded gaze, staring straight into the camera—all that bare skin, every little smear of grease, how he put on that bad boy smirk that he _knows_ makes Alex burn to throw him down and devour him.

“Yeah, imagine how _I_ feel. I didn’t even get laid tonight.”

“It’s too bad I’m too tired to fix that right now.”

Kyle lets out a loud, theatrical sigh and says, “It’s alright, I’ll live. I can be pretty good at entertaining myself, and this hotel room has, like, a whole wall of mirrors. Plenty of potential there.”

“And you’re not going to send us any pictures of your…adventure…are you?”

“Turnabout’s fair play, Manes.”

The content little smile Alex has been wearing widens to a full-on grin, and despite his exhaustion, a brief flush of heat wakes up his veins. “You know I’m going to have my hands on you again sooner rather than later, right, Valenti? You might want to watch your mouth.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. And to that end, I think my mouth is doing its job _perfectly.”_

“We’ll see how you feel about that when you get home.”

Kyle gives a pretty little hum of anticipation, and on the other side of the line, the bedsheets rustle as he rolls over. “Can’t wait,” he says, then yawns. “Listen, tomorrow’s my last jam-packed day, then it’s just one more day of wrap up and one more day of travel. I need to get up pretty early, though.”

“Yeah. Get some sleep. And thank you, Kyle.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Being apart sucks. I know all three of us would do anything to make it easier.”

“I do have to thank you, though. I love you.”

“Put Michael on the line?”

“I don’t really want to wake him up.”

“Put him on the line anyway. What if he’s snoring ‘I love you’ in Morse code? Alien Morse code? I don’t wanna miss that.”

Alex chuckles warmly and starts rubbing Michael’s back again, loving the contented noise he breathes into Alex’s chest. “I’ll let him know you say you love him too.”

At that, Kyle laughs sleepily, and they say their goodnights. When the line goes quiet, Alex drops the phone to the bed beside him and sighs up to the ceiling.

It’ll still be a while before he’s able to shut off the film reel in his head, the constant replay of Michael all shaky and hollow and looking so impossibly alone. But if nothing else, being able to talk to Kyle has settled something loose vital component in Alex’s mind and planted the seeds of a new resolve. It doesn’t always have to be this hard. They’ll work on it, on better communication, on building bridges and keeping each other close even when physical distance is unavoidable.

Things can get better. They will. And with Michael warm and brilliant against him and Kyle’s voice still humming in his ears, things already feel pretty goddamn great.

**Author's Note:**

> i definitely haven't abandoned this series! feels good to be writing mylex again <3
> 
> tumblr @ cosmicsolipsism  
> discord @ haloud


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